The Story of Fëanor and Nerdanel
by Smash Bandiicoot
Summary: Excerpts from the lives of Fëanor and Nerdanel.
1. Chapter 1

**Questionable Sincerity **

The sounds of merriment were thick in the air and the mingling light of the two trees faded slowly to silver in the sky. Elves danced and laughed across the trampled green grass and conversed under the lanterns hanging from the trees. All of Tirion had come to celebrate the union of Finwë and Indis, the king's second marriage. In the midst of a dancing line of raven and golden hair, was an ever laughing maiden, her copper hair was entwined with purple flowers and her gray eyes were squinted above her ruddy cheeks. Her countenance was not fair compared to those around her, but it was full of depths.

Her partner bowed across from her, their was a strong resemblance in their appearance, his hair was cropped short, hardly touching the tips of his ears. They danced hardily and with vigor until finally she had to sit down away from the dance, resting her back against a tree. Her partner came to her with a goblet of wine, grinning down at her. She took it from him and he sat beside her,

"You seem tired, Nerdanel." He said simply, and they both laughed.

"And you are not, brother?" she asked.

"I do not grow weary."

"H'mm, we shall see in the morning, Russion, after the wine and the hours of endless dancing settles in your sleep." She replied, her head leaning back, eyes closed.

"I don't sleep either." He told her casually, Nerdanel snorted lightly and he shook his head smiling. Suddenly the people began to cheer and Russion stood up, taking back his drink, he peered over the crowd. There standing on a raised platform was a dark haired elf with a star bound across his head, resting on his brow.

"I think the Lord Fëanor is going to make a speech." Russion said down to his sister,

"Oh, is he." She said and stood, her face was one of interest, her right eyebrow raised slightly. "You know, I heard a rumor that the King's son does not approve of the marriage…" she whispered out of the side of her mouth, leaning over to her brother.

"You shouldn't gossip, Nerdanel." he replied teasingly. The line of dancers slowly came to halt and when all eyes were upon the Prince he smiled,

"Good evening fair people of Tirion," he said, for now silver illuminated the sky, he held up his goblet and everyone found their own in preparation for a toast. Nerdanel grabbed her brothers, making him scramble to find another. "Today is a day for celebration and joy, it has been many years that my father and I have been without a maiden in our home, and long has it grieved us. Our house will certainly be a place of pleasantries and sweet sounds now that a woman's touch, almost as beautiful as the Lady Míriel's herself, has come once again into its walls. Drink to King Finwë and Lady Indis!" He finished and all drank from their goblets, "May the festivities continue long into the waxing of Telperion!"

The people cheered in agreement, and many drank a second time. Nerdanel drained her red wine and laughed at her brother's face of shock as he watched her, his hands empty.

"Oh be quiet, brother," she told him, although he did not speak, "For you have finished yours as well!"

"That _was_ mine!" he accused, and she shoved him slightly before taking his hand, entering the dance with renewed energy.

A/N: Alright... I purposely wanted to try a different approach here with my writing. I didn't want to write any feelings or knowledge of the characters, I wanted a complete outsider's view. I wanted to express the character's thoughts through dialogue, facial descriptions, body language and their actions. I don't know why I am doing this, and I don't know how long it will last. Comments are greatly appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Insincere Submission**

Set away from the dancing lawn was a long table on a raised platform where the wedding party was seated during the feast. There was but on chair still occupied, a lesser chair compared tto he kingly one beside it, but still fair, and in its seat sat an elf with dark hair. He tapped his fingertips along the table and he idly watched the dancers on the other side of the dining area. They were all smiling and laughing, some of them dancing with lovers, or friends, or relatives.

From his countenance it appeared that he had no urge to join the celebration, rather it seemed that he wanted to get as far away from it as possible. However, when he saw a beautiful Vanyar trying to nonchalantly make her way over to the table he rose from his chair, drink in hand, and walked towards the crowd of gaiety. The elf saw his escape attempt and went to go after him when a gentle hand was placed on her arm. She turned to look up into the kind face of her husband.

Fëanor felt a familiar touch on his shoulder and he stopped, defeated. He turned around, his father's face looked worried,

"Come, my son, will you not be happy for me on this day, and join the festivities? Even if you will not dance, will you not speak kindly with our guests?" He asked desperately. Fëanor looked into his father's face, his mouth opened as if he would speak, but was tightly closed again. He gently walked past his father back the way he came. He stepped onto the raised platform, standing in front of the table.

He waited for the people Tirion to notice him and watched as the elves closer to him; still sitting in their seats, began to cheer to the king's son. He smiled as they stopped dancing and some of them found their goblets from the feast. Their faces confused and frantic as they hurried back to the tables. He raised his own drink in the air, "Good evening fair people of Tirion," he said, for now the light of Telperion was all around them.

A/N: Posting the second chapter about a day after the first. Hopefully, I get some feedback! : )


	3. Chapter 3

**Contrasting Ladies**

A small group of copper and black haired elves went lazily down a kept road beneath going away from the city of Tirion. At the front of the group was an elf maiden with long raven hair and an elf beside her with a head of copper. Behind them were Russion, Nerdanel, and an elf and elf maiden with dark tresses.

"Is not Lord Fëanor absolutely handsome?" the elf maiden beside Nerdanel said fondly.

"I suppose, if you are fond of that sort of thing." They stared straight ahead, the fair maiden's face an expression of one that day dreams, Nerdanel's was of indifference. Their features were in sharp contrast. Nerdanel was on one side, tall and boney, her jaw strong and her nose had a rigid bridge and a straight end, which did not turn up. The maiden beside her sat considerably shorter than Nerdanel, her body was thin but also soft and supple, and her face was round, her nose, upturned and her lips, full.

"You cannot deny his attractiveness." She retorted.

"No," Nerdanel smiled, "I did not."

"I do not understand what you mean then."

"Handsome he is, little sister, but also terribly rude."

"How can you say that after his blessing?" she asked appalled, Nerdanel laughed aloud and her brother looked back at them, grinning. Their younger sister looked between them, her mouth agape. "What do you find amusing?"

"His_ blessing_, as you call it, was insincere and contained an ill comparison."

"What comparison do you speak of?"

"Forgive me if my quotation is a bit off, but I believe it went something like this, our house will be full of sweet pleasantries now that a touch, almost as beautiful as the Lady Míriel's herself, has come into its walls." She roughly repeated Fëanor's words to her sister, "Comparing his father's new and very pleasant wife, for I have had the honor of sharing a few words with her, to his late mother was a, I suppose after speaking with you, a subliminal message of partiality, to his mother, and possibly disdain to the kind Lady Indis. Though I thought the insult was rather obvious, perhaps I am wrong."

"Prejudice I can see, but disdain, certainly you are stretching your assumptions a bit far, Nerdanel? And besides, should he not love his mother more than Lady Indis? Would you not?"

"He has all the right to prefer his mother over his father's new bride, but does that mean he must announce it in front of all of Tirion and half of the Vanyar? Today was her day, not Lady Míriel's, she is now the kings wife, and though I never knew the Lady Míriel, I would be as bold to say that Lady Indis's touch may be equally as beautiful, or more so, for she is one of the loveliest elves I have ever met."

"So you are saying that Lord Fëanor used the opportunity to let all of Tirion know, once and for all, that he dislikes the Lady Indis?" asked the youngest elf of the group, riding beside Russion. His hair was dark, like his mothers and he turned to look at his older sister in the waning silver light.

"That is exactly what I am trying to tell our sister, Fëaquildo, thank you."

"But of course, Nerdanel, these are just assumptions, and nothing that you have assumed, despite how insightful you may be, is guaranteed to be the truth." The elf maiden at the head of the line said back to her.

"Yes, of course, mother, but they have a very great chance of being more than slightly accurate."

"I have no doubt about that." She said, smiling at the copper haired elf riding beside her. The side of his mouth rose in amusement and he reached over and held her hand in her lap.

"Well I do not believe it." Nerdanel's sister stated haughtily.

"Do not be fooled by a beautiful face, Írimë." Nerdanel warned her; however, Írimë did not reply but rolled her eyes instead.

A/N: Yeah, so far, I'm poopin' out a chapter a day. I think I pretty much stayed true to my writing style that I am attempting, with an exception here and there. Yes, Nerdanel has three siblings. I find that to be more a contrast to Fëanor, because up until now he has had his father undivided attention, Nerdanel has not. All of my names that are not from Tolkien's books came from: .net/. I love that place. : )


	4. Chapter 4

**An Insightful Goodbye**

Fëanor gathered a few articles of clothing and folded them neatly, placing them in his pack. He rolled up his blankets and attached them to his bag. He took off his silver band head band and left his chamber. He was dressed in plain trousers and a tunic with his black hair tide back at the nape of his neck.

His father met him in the hall, his smile fading as he observed his sons attire. Fëanor handed his father his star,

"I am trading in my crown for a walking stick, father." He told him, "Just for now. I do not need every one paying me a bow on my journey. I will be walking. Where… I don't know. Possibly, south, to the forests of Oremë, and maybe then to the sea. But I cannot tell, but I will know all when I return, and I shall share my tale with you."

"Leaving?" he asked, "Now, after my wedding? You will not stay and share in my happiness?"

"This may be a joyous day for you, father, so I am deeply sorry to tell that staying here in the company of your new wife will bring me no such joy." Fëanor told him gently, he embraced him, and stunned Finwë returned the gesture.

"I want you to be happy here, this is your home."

"I want to be happy here as well, but I think the best thing for us now will be time spent apart." He tried to smile, "Trust me father, I cannot help to be miserable, and after a while you will grow tired of my brooding. Perhaps the solitude will ease my mind."

"There is nothing I can do to make you stay?" he asked hopelessly.

"I am afraid not father." Fëanor told him, he kissed his cheek and left him there in the hall. He saw the slight frame of Indis standing in the doorway to their chambers from the corner of his eye. He paused for a slight moment and bowed to her, "Farwell for now, my lady."

"I was hoping to get to know you better, Fëanor."

"There may be time for that in the future. For now, I must get to know myself." He said and walked on. He continued through the city of Tirion, people who recognized him bowed and bid him farewell. He returned them with brief nods before disappearing down the road in the fading golden light.


End file.
